


Just Stay

by Moth1988



Category: Sam & Max (Comics)
Genre: Affection, Aftercare, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Begging, Comfort Sex, Dry Humping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, M/M, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Quickies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moth1988/pseuds/Moth1988
Summary: It's been months, and Max still can't bear the thought of Sam leaving.
Relationships: Max/Sam (Sam & Max)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 132





	Just Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience once again! I have so many drafts and concepts I'm working on, this is just the first one I've finished! 
> 
> I've definitely explored similiar before, but I guess I'm just a sucker for comfort sex lmao!
> 
> Please enjoy! :) 💕

It hurts, feels like grief's struck him all over again, and almost desperately he moves to hold Sam's face.

" _Please_ , fuck, just don't..." He gulps out, panic rising in his chest. "Don't go anywhere."

Sam's eyebrows furrow in confusion, hand hovering over the smaller paws grasping at his fur. "What're ya talkin' about, little buddy?" He asks, almost a whisper.

He's sure he looks damn near hysterical, chest heaving with panicked, labored breaths, pleading with Sam to _please_ just stay home.

Guy'd only be gone an hour, after all. Just one small errand and he'd be back home...

_Right_?

Shit, he thought he was over all this crap...

But he's _terrified_ , like Sam's gonna disappear if he ain't right infront of him for an hour or two. Last time he left, walked outta the office just for a little while to take care of some business, he hadn't come back. Never _did_ , til' Max took matters into his own hands and found him again. They'd been pretending for damn months now, like nothing had happened at all. He could almost convince himself it all was some horrid dream, if not for the pit of nerves making it's presence known whenever Sam was gone for more than an hour.

Sam's confusion softens, concerned expression glancing over his, and Max's hands fall from his face, hovering in a silent plea.

His partner gently takes hold of his shaking paws, grasping them firm in his own and easing them down, like some lover in those old films, taking care of their partner who'd gone mad.

And _hell_ , maybe he has.

* * *

" _Darlin_ '..."

The one word has him choking, wordless as it catches in his throat with the kind of resounding and deafening silence that has the room tense.

Then he's crying, and shit... when was the last time he did _that_?

Actually, thinking about it, he's not sure he wants to know; he's got enough of an idea for the memory to be unsavory.

He tries in vain to swallow down the rising tears and the lump residing in his throat, but it doesn't do a single thing. He can feel his hands shake, sniffling helplessly. It's goddamn pathetic, the way he's snivelling like some helpless _dame_. Yet, as horrifying as it is, he can't stop it. Really doesn't help with the way Sam's looking at him, either, so concerned like he's never seen anything as trying as this. Only makes the urge to absolutely fall apart stronger, harder to ignore with the sting in his eyes and the evergrowing burn in his throat. Makes him feel like he's choking, suffocating on nothing at all.

"Max?"

He swallows hard; wallowing in this tense silence ain't gonna do any good. When he can finally trust his voice again, he gives him a grin and looks up at him. "'M _fine_ ,"

The confidence in his tone falls flat, voice coming out wholly unconvincing and unsteady.

Sam's frown deepens in turn. "Yeah?" He reaches out an almost hesitant hand, resting on the lagomorph's cheek. "Ya don't _look_ fine..." He mutters, and it doesn't take much past that for Max to start sniffling, no longer able to deny the tears as he finds that he can't wipe them away fast enough.

" _Shit_ , Sam," He chuckles, humor lost on him. It's hard to look at him, especially knowing how flushed he oughta look right about now. Still, he can't look away, all careful, knowing smiles and gentle touches. It's damn near addicting, the particular warmth of his touch. "C'mon, don't do this t' me." He laughs again, but Sam doesn't seem to find it very funny.

"What's wrong, pal?" He starts, stroking at the bristling fur on his cheek. "Talk t' me, sweetheart."

And that does it, one more sweet name and he's falling apart completely. It's rare, for Sam to call him something so sickly sweet. Under any other circumstance, Max would probably tease him relentlessly for it, but that's real hard to manage right now. He couldn't choke out a half-witted response if he wanted to, dissolving completely into gross tears and dame-like sobs that have him shaking worse than he'd care to admit.

"Awh, buddy," Sam drawls, cupping his face in careful paws. Somehow, he looks simultaneously like he's near panic and yet has every clue what to do. Max could never understand how he manages it, like he's got every clue in the world, always knowing what to do despite the unlikelihood of the situation at hand. "'S okay, I've gotcha..." He chuckles with a nervous smile. "Just breathe, dear. I'm here."

He tries, taking in gulping breaths and yet somehow only sobbing harder. He can't seem to get a word out, some half-baked explanation as to why he's so torn up only coming out in a broken curse. " _Shit_ ,"

Sam seems to get it, somehow, just holds his face in soft hands with that comforting look of his. Still, worry's clear in his eyes, wandering over his face like he's trying to figure out what he just ain't telling him. "Ya gotta breathe, Max, okay? I don't want ya dyin' on me, heh." He chuckles, but that last part's almost hesitant.

Usually, he'd find a quip like that one funny, but in his mushy and half-formed state, it just makes him cry harder. Makes the knot in his stomach tighten, pit of dread making it's presence known. "Christ, don't--" He chokes out between gulping, sniffling breaths, and the words come out a lot less steady than he'd like them to. "Don't say that."

Sam's eyebrows furrow in confusion, looking him over again. It's only for a moment, though, before his mouth's falling parted with wide eyes and a quiet " _Oh_ ," muttered amongst the room's hush. It ain't hard to believe that Sam really didn't think twice about it, and Max can't blame him for that. It's kinda funny when you think about it past it's initial blow, especially when Sam didn't even realize the irony. Right about now, though, it ain't helping his case any.

Sam, gratefully, Max would begrudgingly admit, doesn't let go of him, and between his hopeless attempts to pull himself together, the lagomorph lays a hand ontop of his. "That was this is about?" He murmers, so soft that Max can't even entertain the thought that he doesn't get where he's coming from. His partner runs a thumb across his cheek, mouth formed in a frown, a certain sadness softening his features.

The lagomorph doesn't say a word, and the quiet is telling in it's own strange way. There's rarely any silence between the two of them, but now it's increasingly hard to find the words to say. At least he's finally managed to stop crying, even if it's only due to the fact that he's utterly exhausted himself past the point of tears. He still feels just as sick, stomach heavy and chest tight with dread as he sniffles and tries to repress the urge to start sobbing again. He's never been so terrified in his life, having him here in his paws and knowing he could leave him at any moment if he just walked out of that door.

"I ain't goin' anywhere," He murmers, softly kissing the space between his brows, lips lingering on his fur for a moment or two before he's looking at him again. Swears Sam can read his mind, and the meer notion of that's got him feeling uneasy for a reason he can't quite peg down, an odd sense of deja vu lingering on his mind. It's gone fast, though, as Sam smiles gently at him. "It ain't ever gonna happen again, alright? You don't gotta worry about it."

The tight knot starts to unwind. Just having him there right infront of him is enough to subside the panic.

"'M sorry, I know, I just..." He lets out a humourless laugh, bitter against some tell-tale reality already far past them. "I dunno, few months back when ya told me ya had shit t' take care of you left and uh," He swallows hard. "Didn't come back."

Sam just frowns, and it's a tough truth to face that Sam probably doesn't have a clue as to what he's talking about. Not exactly. Not like he was _there_ , after all, not really. Still, he seems to get the gist. "That's a cruel way to go..." He mutters, like he's trying to wrap his mind around the events he didn't get a chance to witness. "Didn't get t' say goodbye, huh?" Sam just shakes his head to himself, dismissing the thought before Max is suddenly being wrapped up in his arms, familiar warmth seeping in. "'M sorry, Max, that sounds terrible. I'm not gonna go anywhere. I'm stayin' right here, pal."

They'd never really talked about it, past the basics. Never really got into the nitty-gritty of that day. Max gets the feeling Sam understands the grief all too well, though, holding him tight in some awful parallel of it all. Just like he's done before, he wraps his arms around Sam's neck and buries his face into the crook of it, familiar smell of ink and smoke calming him down more than he'd ever admit. "Just don't go, 'kay?" He murmers against his fur, a lot softer than he'd ever own up to, halfway hoping Sam can't hear it.

It feels like an eternity passes of him taking in the smell of tobacco and newspaper, and he's never been so grateful for his warped perception of time. He'd do just about anything to be held like that forever, though he'd rather die than admit it.

Sam keeps a firm hand on his back, sighing softly and placing a kiss on his shoulder from where he can reach, lips lingering at the spot. "You okay?"

The lagomorph pulls away to look at him. Poor guy looks awful guilty, like he's done something horrible. He can't resist the urge to laugh. "'M fine, Sam. Don't gotta look so sad about it." He earns a smile back from his partner. Makes him all warm inside, so much so that it's near detestable. Sam always did have the uncanny ability to reduce him to a soft, mushy pile of feelings. Seems that now's no exception.

"Just don't like seein' ya cry, pal."

Max lays a hand on his cheek, suddenly feeling something akin to guilt. "It's okay, Sam, really." He leans in to kiss him, brief yet igniting those familiar butterflies in his stomach the second or two it lasts. "'M fine, it's okay. Just one of those days, y'know?" Sam's frown only deepens, concerned eyes flicking over him like he doesn't believe him. " _Pup_ ," He stresses, aftermath of crying evident in his unsteady voice. The rarely used pet name's already making him feel a lot more sappy than he already is. Usually such bittersweet sentiments ain't his thing, but Sam's always been an exception. "Ya big baby," He giggles, earning a small smile. "I'm _okay_."

Sam sighs, kissing him back with a gentle touch. He lingers for a moment longer than one would come to expect from him, and something about it feels awfully different than before. He finds himself relaxing underneath his touch almost immediately, hands finding their place on Sam's shoulders. Just when the guy's about to break away from him, he pulls him closer, both of them gasping in a deep breath before their lips touch again.

Just having him there so close and intimate has the feeling of dread abating. It just _helps_ , more than anything else could, and to his quiet relief, Sam doesn't pull away. He could, if he wanted, Max's grip ain't anything strong.

But he doesn't, and he feels two clumsy paws fumble to hold at his hips, thumbs already carefully massaging at the fur.

It's sweet, familiar and warm and near overwhelming; it has his stomach flipping and chest aching.

And shit, he can already feel his eyes watering.

He means to pull away before Sam notices, steady himself with deep breathing and all that crap to keep himself from losing his dignity all over again.

But, unsurprisingly, he doesn't.

He can feel himself press closer, whimpering against his lips. " _Ah, Sam_ ," He groans. "Stay-- _please_ ," He grips at Sam's shirt, desperate and shameless in every sense of the word.

The formerly gross couch suddenly becomes a lot more appealing when Sam's guiding him to lay back on it, back up against the arm rest. Fuck, the scratchy old fabric's never felt better.

They both break apart with a gasp, drawing in much needed breaths. "Shit, please, Sam," He grips at his shirt, begging without an ounce of shame. "I need ya, _please_ \--"

Sam's climbing ontop of him before he can say another word, easily shrugging off his coat and tossing the thing onto the floor. He can't deny the fact that he's a handsome sight, all dark and towering above him like he's got the right. And hell, Max ain't gonna deny _that_ fact, either.

"It's okay, doll, I've gotcha." He receives a gentle kiss on his twitching nose, and tries to push away the stinging in his eyes. "I'll give ya whatever ya want, Max. Just don't cry." He mutters, kissing at his cheek and at the dampness already settling into his fur. "I can't stand seein' ya so upset." He murmers close to his skin, nuzzling at the fur there when he pauses.

Must seem awful strange when he's begging for him, yet still crying like some heartbroken broad. It ain't Sam, that's actually just about the one thing keeping him together at all right now. Maybe it's the overwhelming notion that Sam's actually here, right now and undeniably so. It feels so good that he's in tears.

"Just want you to keep goin', promise, I just uh," He can't tell if he's sobbing or giggling now, maybe a mix of both when he wipes at his eyes and grins up at him. "Love you a lot, and I'm real happy you're still here."

He knows he sounds just about the definition of cheesy, but he can't think of any other way to say it when he's sniffling again. Sam smiles, sweetly without a beat. "I love you too, little buddy. Just relax, 'kay?" Sam waits for the small and eager nod before he's bending down to kiss him so gently that he almost thinks about begging him for more in more vulgar ways than one. But it says more than crass words possibly ever could, and before he knows it, he's running his paws over Sam's body, feeling at whatever he can and whimpering against the warm mouth pressed against his.

" _Please_ ,"

Comforting hands grasp at his hips once more, and he shivers when Sam's knee presses inbetween his legs, not noticing when he's gently pressing against him as he situates himself. Already far too sensitive, Max shuffles his hips and rubs up against him with a sound soon muffled behind both of his own paws. "Poor guy. Gettin' impatient, huh?" Sam laughs, but he doesn't move from his spot.

He presses against him harder, trying to get the message across in a vain attempt to get him to go faster. "Sam, I'm quite literally beggin' ya here..." He stresses, impatience making him bold. "Don't tease me."

Sam leans down again to kiss his forehead. "You're just too darn cute, Max. 'M sorry, I won't keep ya waitin'." And he keeps true with his promise, paw firm and wandering down his side, and up his innerthigh. The slight touch alone makes him shiver, cursing underneath his breath.

God, who gave the guy the damn right to have the ability to make him such a _mess_?

To his credit, he picks up the pace, gently parting Max's thighs apart and flicking the underside of his tail with the pad of his thumb. He can't stop the whine that he lets out, and he's quick to wrap his arms around Sam's neck to tug himself closer and bury his face within it.

"Wo-oah, doll," He chuckles in surprise, kissing at the side of Max's face he can reach, hand on his back when the lagamorph sits further upright. "Too fast?" He jokes, but there's a hint of concern in his softened voice.

"N-nah, keep goin', just heh," He hides his grinning expression within the crook of his neck. "Didn't mean t' be so _loud_ , I guess."

The soft hand on his back moves to stroke at the bristling fur. "Awh, pal," He reassures with a laugh. "I _like_ hearin' ya, don't gotta be embarassed."

Before he can protest, another soft hand is brushing against his tail again, thumb pressing against it in a soft stroke.

He was already sensitive before, but somehow he swears Sam just made it worse. That, and he was always a bit of a sucker for some nice words. If Sam likes his voice that much, he guess he ain't gonna deny him.

He curses again in a near whisper, peaking up from Sam's shoulder as he wiggles and tries to press against his hand. "F-fine, uh," He gasps out, close to his ear and laying on the sweet tone thick as breathy and sultry as he can manage. "Keep goin'? _Please_ , baby?" He asks so nicely that Sam's hand stills in what he can only guess is surprise. Sam was always a softy, pet names especially, but it was always _his_ forte more than Max's. On rare occasion, though, it was damn satisfying to catch him off-guard with a soft, sweet voice and docile plea. Usually got what he wanted out of it, too.

This time seems no different as Sam goes quiet for a moment, only temporarily, before he's flicking softly at the fluffy underside of the thing again. "Gosh, you're adorable." He finally mutters, almost like a half-hearted resignation.

"I know," He grins against his neck, and Sam only smooches at his shoulder again. "But I think you've just got weird tastes, Sam."

"Mm, I don't think so. Everyone thinks it, I'm just the only one that can say it without gettin' hurt."

With a morbid sense of pride, admittedly moreso at the universal sense of inflicted terror than anything else, Max nods. "Heh, ya have a point."

The hand feels at his tail again with soft, traced circles again. He can feel himself tense up at the attention, shivering outwardly and pressing harder against the touch. "Shit, that's uh," Despite his habit of being so vocal, whether he wants to or not, he can still feel himself fluster. " _Real_ good. Keep uh, keep goin'."

Sam just chuckles and nods. "'Course, doll." He does for a few seconds more, just firm enough that he's squirming despite himself, making these uncontrollable noises just underneath his breath.

" _Ahh_ \- don't stop." He's shameless when he ruts up against him, bucking his hips against Sam's soft middle. He swears his legs are shaking at this point, folded around his partner and easing him close.

"You're doin' so good, Max, ya sound so sweet." He purrs, and the other just nuzzles against his neck in response, words lost. "Swear you're the nicest thing I've ever seen, y'know-- could knock _any_ man dead with how pretty ya are," He trails off with an almost sheepish chuckle. "And that _voice_ , gosh... I'd kill to hear it for the rest of my life."

Shit, Sam's always had an uncanny way with words. Maybe it's just the endorphins or all that bullshit, but he can feel his stomach fluttering, and he falls speechless once again. He just hides his face, deepening in shade. "Sam, c'mon-- I dunno how t' respond to _that_..."

"You don't gotta, just wanted t' tell you."

He grins almost dopeishly against his fur. "Gee, Sam, way t' fluster a guy..."

Another soft laugh, and he finds himself gasping again when Sam's hand dips down to run over the curve of his ass. "You're just too pretty, bunny. Hard not t'."

"That's sweet, Sam, really is and it means more than I can say, _but_ I'm gonna be honest with ya. I am," He shuffles his hips, shuddering at the slight friction it brings. " _Mortifyingly_ close, I know ya ain't doin' it on purpose but could you please, baby-- don't stop _now_."

"Sorry, doll, got distracted." Max's inclined to believe him, hands wandering over his backside and unnoticing when he's brushing against things that really ain't helping him be any more _patient_. "Feels that good?"

The hand dips to the underside of his tail, just between his legs when he brushes his thumb against what's straining between them. " _Yes_ ," Is the only thing he can gasp out, rutting against his hand with shameless desperation. God, he's so close already, just pressing against Sam's hand has got him nearing his peak. "Fuck, I'm," He whines, picking up the pace of his stuttering hips as Sam stays in his place, letting him rub against him as his other hand moves to fondle with his tail. It feels so nice it's got him dizzy, gasping out loud and moaning like a wanton dame. "S-so close that it's _pathetic_ , Sam."

He feels a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "Ain't pathetic, Max. That ain't a bad thing, neither, just means I oughta be doin' something right." He murmers close to his skin, and the soft reassurance is enough to tip him over the edge, whimpering his name against his fur.

When he comes down from it, he's already feeling seedy embarassment settling in his stomach, swearing he's never gotten off so easy in his life. "Ah, fuck, I'm uh..." He mutters. "I'm sorry. That wasn't much."

His partner finally pulls away from him, towering over him just to lean down and kiss him again. "What're ya talkin' about? That was amazin', ya were _perfect_." He smiles, and it seems awful genuine, too genuine to just be a lie to spare his feelings. "Gosh, ya felt so soft, too, heh..." He notes fondly, and Max frowns in confusion.

"Soft? Didn't feel so t' me."

His partner only hesitates for a second or two before he's smiling again. "I meant literally, ya dolt, your fur and all that." Affection drips from his tone, and if not for the afterglow, he'd probably be sick with how how syrupy sweet it all is. Or at least that's what he tells himself to spare his last shred of dignity.

"Ohh, right!" He giggles. "Hope so, I try t' keep it that way." He plants a smooch on Sam's cheek, easing himself off of the armrest with a wince.

Sam helps him sit up with a hand on his back, rubbing at the fur there with a comforting smile. "You okay?"

The lagomorph grins up at him, and the hazy afterglow has him positively beaming. "I ain't that old, Sam! Geez," He giggles, earning a kiss on the nose. "'M fine," Easing his shaky legs apart, he cringes again. "Can't say the same for the couch, though!"

Sam pears down at the stain. "Oh, geez, you're right." He doesn't seem all too concerned, smiling at him again in that way that makes his chest feel all warm and tight. "Ain't like this old thing hasn't seen worse. C'mon, love, we'll get ya cleaned up." He takes his hand, and he swears the small, awfully intimate gesture's got him more flustered than anything else.

"Ever the gentleman, Sam." He quips with another dizzy giggle, legs slowly gaining back feeling as he dangles them over the edge of the worn couch.

"You betcha, little buddy."


End file.
